


Days and Moons

by svefn (orphan_account)



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-21 13:06:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9550418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/svefn
Summary: It had been a while since he first saw the boy.





	1. In the Early Morning Hours

_in the early morning hours_  
_someone waits for you_  
_among the blossoms and the flowers_  
_he will find you_

 

  It had been a while since he first saw the boy.

  A skinny one, not too tall—about his size and age, with short, cropped brown hair. It was the eyes, though, that got to him. Those piercingly blue eyes that gleamed through the blurry morning air.

 

  Mark's school bus took a regular route that zigzagged its way around the residential area. His house was the last stop, and the bus would then move onto a wider road that led to the school building. It was a ten to fifteen minute ride, one that he spent looking out towards the empty fields that spread out on each side of the road.

  It was not long since he moved into this new town. The kids pretty much already knew each other from last year. He felt lost, out of place. The unfamiliar smell of the bus, the din of other kids trying to talk over each other, and the occasional comments from the bus driver herself, all seemed to meld into a ball of apprehension tight in his chest. He kept his eyes locked out on the unknown fields. The early morning air was damp—streaks of mist seemed to fly by the window. The milky sky met the unending expanse of wet green.  
  
  Until suddenly, the green was broken by a pair of eyes staring right back at him.

  Mark had thought it was just in his imagination. A lone boy, staring with wide eyes at the bus—no, at him, perhaps. There was no way the boy could see him clearly, right? There was no way the boy could even know him—it was his first day of school. And yet, those eyes had locked on his. He was sure of it.

 

  He would later learn that it often got foggy in the early mornings of this unfamiliar town. He saw the boy a few other times—only on such mornings full of mist, always standing in that tall grass, always alone. A strange feeling tugged at the back of his mind, saying that the boy was watching him.

  Other than that, everything was surprisingly ordinary. The apprehension from his first day at school would melt away with time. After all, he was not one to have trouble making friends. He even met some he would come to call "best friends." His parents would listen with half pleasure and half worry as he ranted on about another hilarious (and probably dangerous) stunt he pulled with his group.

 

  But he could not find that boy at school. No other kid had the same, wide blue eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Days and Moons, by Elsa Kopf:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=je27Cb2p_Fg


	2. Someone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone's silhouette, just visible through the rising fog. It seemed to be watching him.

_someone saw you today_  
_but then you ran away_  
_into the blue_

 

  
  "Well, isn't this just great," Mark muttered.

  
  His father was out of town—work reasons—and he knew his mother would also be busy. Well, it was not like he could call her right now anyway (his cell battery died, perfect.) If he had not been such a doof and just took the bus outta school in time—but what was the use of regretting his life choices now?

  The marching band practice ended a bit later than usual, and he had stayed behind for some extra work—and then, of course, lost track of time. Wade and Bob—being the _worst_ friends they were—did not exactly feel the need to check on him. Mark returned to the school parking lot only to find out that the buses already left.

  So he decided to walk home, why the hell not. It was nice to get some exercise from time to time. He knew the route his school bus usually takes, surely he would be able to follow it home.

  He didn't account for the possibility of a shower, and the fact that he did not have an umbrella.

  So here he was, jogging his way along the sidewalk, trying his best not to get completely soaked. Thankfully the afternoon was not too cold, but the sun set early and he could see the blue dusk tinging the horizon. He was planning on internally cursing the weather all the way—who the hell decided it was a good idea to freaking rain in early winter?!—when something caught his eye.

 

  Someone's silhouette, just visible through the rising fog. It seemed to be watching him.

 

  Mark slowed down, then completely stopped. The road—the fields that stretched next to it—everything was strangely quiet. I must be going completely nuts, he thought. Or just mistaken.

  The silhouette turned, as if to go.

 

  Before he realized what he was doing, Mark took off with a shout. "Hey! You!" His wet shoes and socks completely forgotten, he ran right through several puddles, trying to get there—get to him—in time. "Wait!"

  The silhouette paused.

 

  Huffing slightly, Mark ran up to about a few feet behind the boy. He was sure of it, now. The frail-looking frame covered with an oversized hoodie, short, spiky brown hair and pale skin. If only he turned to face him—

 

  "Ye're gettin' wet," the boy said. His voice was a bit higher than expected, and raspy, as if he hadn't talked for quite a long time. He spoke in an unfamiliar accent that Mark could not place at the moment. "Ya might catch a cold."

  Mark shrugged. "I had no umbrell—no, that's not important. Hey, you're the one that sometimes stands in the fields, right? Watching the school bus? Or buses in general, I don't know?" He rambled, staring down at his feet, suddenly feeling awkward. What was he going to say anyway, I've been making movie-like eye contacts with you those mornings though you might not have noticed?

  He heard the rustle of fabric and looked up. The boy was now staring right at him—and it was the same one, alright. There was no mistaking those eyes. 

  "Why are ya not home yet?"

  "I—uh, what?" Mark spluttered, momentarily dumbfounded by the boy's eyes. "I—yeah, um. Marching band practice. ... Wait, we're in the same school, right? Shouldn't we be?"

  The boy narrowed his eyes, then looked away towards the fields. "Probably," he replied vaguely.

  "So why haven't I seen you around, like, never? What's your name?" And what's your story, Mark wanted to ask, but he figured it was way too early for probing personal matters. A polite decision—which he were to regret all night.

  "Jack," the boy replied, then immediately bit his lip, as if he said too much. His eyes flicked over to Mark. "Ya better get home soon, the fog is thicker at night."

  "But—" Mark tried to protest, when a sudden whiff of wind pelted the raindrops right into his face.

  He blinked.

 

  Jack was gone.

 

.

.

.

  
  The boy was right—the fog was thicker at night. By the time Mark decided to quit searching and turn back home, he could barely see his house ahead. The rain continued through the night.

 

  With a cup of hot chocolate in his hand—thanks, mom—and his phone charging next to his bed, Mark mulled over what happened. He was not one to believe in ghost stories, but—

  He pulled out his phone and dialed Bob's number.

  Bob's familiar voice answered. "Hello—oh hey, Mark. What were you up to all afternoon? Me and Wade called, but your phone was dead."

  "Uh, yeah. I kinda missed the school bus and walked home. But, um. I have something to ask." Mark could practically see Bob about to comment on his stupidity, then clamping his mouth shut. "Sure, man. What is it?"

 

  "Do you know anybody by the name of Jack?"

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not an American, so writing about American school system - including school buses - is super weird for me. Sorry if it is inaccurate, let's just say this story takes place in a parallel universe where my imagined version of a American middle school exists.
> 
> That aside, I feel this chapter is a bit different from the first one. I hope you enjoy it still.


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